Seasons of Love
by AbbyMasrai
Summary: Eighty-five year old Logan Mitchell reflects on his life.  100 Themes Challenge!  Accepting requests!
1. Chapter 1

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**A/N: Hey guys! So yes, I'm starting ANOTHER story. I know I really shouldn't…but this one's different! It'll be a series of one-shots, and I'll only update when I have writer's block (I am told this 100 Themes Challenge is good for that) or when I'm extremely inspired. **

**I want to thank Miss Fenway for telling me all about this challenge, and how it works. So, I'd like to dedicate this to her. **

**Please feel free to leave me ideas of what I should write. Anything goes. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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Introduction

I stretch, ignoring the continuous crackling of my spine. Placing the magazine I had been reading on the table before me, I look at the clock on my kitchen wall. Though I am wearing my bifocals, I can barely read the hands on the clock. After squinting my eyes and craning my neck, I finally discover that it's a quarter till seven. A smile tugs on my lips, knowing that my favorite time of the day was quickly approaching.

Slowly I stand up, wincing at the pain that attacks my knees. Balancing my weight on the table, I lift my right leg and slowly extend it. Satisfied that the stretch helped my knee, I do the same with my left. Slightly hobbling, I walk over to my closet and take out my favorite jacket and put it on. With the zipper zipped all the way, I make my way back to the kitchen and retrieve my magazine before heading to the glass sliding doors that leads to my balcony. Before I slide the door open, I pause in front of the door, soaking in the reflection of my countenance.

The pure grey head of hair is perhaps the most unsettling change. Even though I began to notice wisps of grey in my forties, it still unnerves me to see no trace of my raven-hair present. I tried dying it at first, but it didn't look the same. After several attempts, I decided to accept that that part of my life was no longer with me.

After turning on the balcony lights, I slide the door open and sit down on one of the chair I had placed out here years ago. Once I find a comfortable position to sit in, I relax into the chair and peer at the scene before me.

Most people don't like living in the city, saying that the hustle and bustle is too noisy for them. Personally, I've always liked listening to the comings and goings of the city, for it reminds me that the world is still alive and continues to live…that I am still a part of it. Sometimes, when you become a hermit like me, you can forget that time still exists.

In my older years, I have come to appreciate watching the world from my balcony. Lovers walking by as they held hands, groups of friends laughing and talking as they passed…it reminds me of myself when I was their age. Though I know I can never reclaim what I once possessed, I often find myself thinking about my younger years. Some people get depressed when they reflect on their glory days, but I find it soothing because it's all I have now.

I rub the gold wedding band around my finger gently as a fond smile finds its way upon my face. Yes, I had a fruitful life filled with much accomplishment and happiness. But, as I have come to discover, there's a dear price to pay once a person grows old. The more one gains in life, the more one loses. And while I had lots of love and success in my youth, I am now left with a void of loneliness and sameness. I suppose it has to do with the circle of life, mortality. Everyone must go through what I have in some way, shape, or form. And in a way, it comforts me to know that.

My eyes flicker to the sky, widening in surprise. The sunset this evening is more spectacular than usual. The oranges and reds that I am used to witnessing seem brighter, more vibrant tonight. The buildings around my apartment complex begin to darken until they finally become black against the setting sun. I watch, transfixed as the sun continues to inch closer and closer to the horizon, until it disappears completely. I sigh, content that I have lived to see another sunset.

I open my magazine and find where I have left off. I start to read, but find myself distracted. Trying to banish my thoughts, I concentrate on my magazine, determined. But it's no use...not even an article about the latest advances in medicine could keep my interest tonight. The steady sound of cars passing by is soothing, causing my mind to drift, and before long, I unintentionally conjure memories from the past.

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**A/N: Well, there's the first chapter! Only ninety-nine more to go! What did you think? Please let me know and please leave me ideas! Thank you so much!**


	2. Fairytale

**A/N: Hey guys. I know, I've been gone for a long time. But this has been a very trying semester. A lot has happened, personally and academically. Some of it good, most of it bad. I've just been trying to survive, so I do apologize for not being able to write.**

**This chapter sort of captures a part of what happened to me since I last updated. Now, the specifics aren't my personal story, but the overall picture that I attempted to create is genuine. **

**I wrote pretty quickly and didn't really edit, so I apologize for errors. Also, I haven't written a story in a while, so I apologize if it's lacking.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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Chapter 2: **Fairy Tale**

I suppose everyone experiences that one moment in life where they learn that life is not fair. For some, it comes when they find out that Santa doesn't exist. For others, the betrayal of a loved one is the poison of their once whimsical life outlook.

As the car came to a screeching halt, I knew I had found my reality check. Before the car even completely stopped, I swung the door open and bolted to the doors. With a distinct _swoosh_ the automatic doors parted, allowing the chilly autumn wind to usher me into the incredibly white and sterile lobby of St. Gabriel's Hospital.

I was new to the hospital, but I immediately located the receptionist's desk. Nearly running, I approached her desk and waited impatiently as she got off the phone. After an unbearable five minutes, the woman got off the phone, and faced me, her sea green eyes pleasant.

"Can I help you?" she asked, pushing a strand of her strawberry blonde hair out of her pale smiling face.

I paused, trying to gain control the swell of emotions that battled within me. Once I gained some composure, I explained my situation to her.

"My mom, Joanna Mitchell, was brought here today. T-they wouldn't say on the phone what happened, but I really need to find her…" I felt my throat grow tighter with each word I said until I could barely squeak out the last words to the woman in front of me.

Her smile faltered slightly as her eyebrows knitted together in sympathetic concern. "Of course honey, I'll find her. You said her name's Joanna? Just give me a moment." She turned away from me as she began to type furiously on her computer. After scrolling through a page that had popped up on her screen, she reached for the phone next to her and made a call. Once her hushed conversation ended, she hung up the phone and faced me, her smile this time more forced.

"Ok sweetie, if you take those elevators down the hall," she stated gesturing to her left, "and go up to the fifth floor, someone will be there to take you to your mom."

I nodded quickly before darting off toward the elevators. Once I reached the elevators, I pushed the button furiously. Rationally, I knew it wouldn't make the elevator come faster, but something about the repeated action helped calm me a little. Finally, the metal doors opened and I rushed in. The doors were about to close when I saw a couple of figures approaching hurriedly. Even though I didn't want to, I held the door open as a family of four made their way inside. I knew my mom would've chastised me had I done differently, regardless of the situation. The father thanked me quietly as he punched the sixth floor. Once the elevator began its ascent, I felt the trepidation replace my impatience.

Before I could really even process it, the elevator doors opened once again, and I found myself on the fifth floor. Cautiously, I stepped out. I didn't have much time to look around, for a tall, lanky middle-aged man was soon at my side.

"Are you here for Joanna Mitchell?" the balding man asked, his eyes looking down at me concernedly.

"That's my mom, yes" I responded, "What happened? Is she okay? Can I go see her? I—" I didn't get to finish my sentence, for he cut me off. It wasn't impolite, but more of an air of urgency than rudeness.

"Your mom is resting," he said carefully, almost calculatingly. I knew there was more to what he was saying.

"Can I see her, then?" I repeated, not understanding the doctor's vagueness.

"You can, but first we need to find your father."

A whole new array of emotions burst within me at the thought of my father. Fear, anger, disappointment, hatred…and even love swirled within my being, forming this huge knot in my stomach as I answered, "Things are kind of complicated with my father right now."

The doctor seemed surprised by my reply, but nevertheless pressed on. "He must have some number we can reached him by? I'm afraid I can't release this information to a teenager. I need an adult to talk to."

Though his words were harsh, I knew there was no malice behind them. It was simply fact.

Before I could divulge any more information, I heard my name being called. Turning, I saw Kendall, James, and Carlos running toward me. Mrs. Knight wasn't far behind them. As the four of them made it to us, Mrs. Knight turned to the doctor.

"Why is this young man standing here," she chastised loudly, "He should be with his mother right now."

"And you are?" the doctor asked, somewhat intimidated by the tiny red-head.

"Jennifer Knight. We're friends of the Logan family. Are you Joanna's doctor?"

The doctor held out his hand toward Mrs. Knight, who took gave it a firm pump as the doctor answered, "Yes, I'm Dr. Strauss. Joanna's doctor. But I'm afraid that's all the information I can give without this young man's father present."

Mrs. Knight glanced at me sadly, knowing exactly how difficult this would be. "Dr. Strauss," she began, "please tell Logan where he can find his mother and I will tell you why exactly you cannot get a hold of Joanna's husband." Dr. Strauss winced at Mrs. Knight's authoritative tone.

"Room 203" he finally relented, pointing to my right. Racing down in that direction, my mind began to race as to what I might find. So consumed was I in my thoughts, that I barely heard my three friends attempt to follow me, before being called back by Mrs. Knight.

My sneakers squeaked against the tiled floor as I searched for the desired room number. As fate would have it, it was at the very end of the hallway. I stopped in front of the door, afraid of what I might discover on the other side of the door. I inhaled deeply, forcing my shaky hand to turn the doorknob. The door opened immediately, and I crept in silently.

The room was nice for a hospital room. It had a nice TV, a nice counter, and even a window with a beautiful view of downtown. It wouldn't be until future visits that I would notice these things. For in that moment, all I saw was my mom lying on the bed, unconscious. Thousands of wires seemed to be attached to her, all connected to machines that gave off different measurements of my mother's condition. I wanted to be a doctor, and as a result I already could recognize some of them. There was the heart monitor, that one was obvious. There was one that I knew I had seen before, but I just couldn't quite remember what it did. But the others were unlike anything I had seen before. And it scared me to see so many foreign machines.

A chair appeared out of the corner of my eye. I went over and grabbed the chair, dragging it behind me as I made my way to my mom's beside. Wary of the wires, I managed to place the chair close to my mom and I sat down. I softly grabbed her hand and expected her.

She was peaceful. The rays of the sun managed to seep through the window blinds, causing my mother's normally chestnut colored hair to become ignited with colors of vibrant red. If I ignored the beeping sounds of the machines, it was almost like I was watching her sleep back at home. But I wasn't.

"Mom?" I whispered, hoping I could somehow magically wake her up. She didn't stir. I knew she wouldn't, the medicine she was given was surely going to knock her out for sometime. Even though I knew this, he couldn't help but feel frightened. I wanted desperately for her to open her eyes, for her to be okay, and for us to be able to go home and pretend like this never happened.

Choking back a sob, I gripped my mother's hand firmly. I wanted this to be a dream, some horrible nightmare that I would soon wake up from. But I knew I wouldn't. This was my reality now.

The fairytale was no more.

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**A/N: Thank you all for being so patient. I've been lurking somewhat on fanfiction this semester and I saw that one of my stories was nominated and won an award. I'm truly grateful to all of you voted for "Broken." It really came at a time where I needed some good news, so thank you for the blessing.**

**Please leave one-shot ideas for me, if you have any you'd like to see me right. I would really really appreciate it. Thank you guys for being so amazing! I'm going to try to update more often. Love to all. **


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